


finding any way to your wild heart

by WishingTree



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, scylla is a dumbass and i mean that in the best way, she's trying her best!, spoilers for eps 1-4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishingTree/pseuds/WishingTree
Summary: Scylla is a witch. She’s a witch, an orphan, a solider… a terrorist.…Yeah.She’s all of those things, and yet somehow her biggest problem right now is whether or not she can convincingly pretend to date one Raelle Collar.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 10
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> alright so i am completely aware that scylla is like.....so murderous. just. there’s so much murder. but also…? she’s a super interesting character and it sure is going to be SOMETHING to see where the show takes her arc
> 
> (we running with the concept that she feels way more than just ‘a little bit’ of regret for her actions okay yes alright) 
> 
> the basis for all of this is that instead of being a mysterious infiltrator double agent type, scylla is… a dumbass. as much as she tries, she absolutely does NOT have her shit together
> 
> Title from 'Wild Heart' by Bleachers;

It’s dark and kind of rainy, and Scylla is busy skulking in the trees as she tries to come up with the next step to her plan, hurrying to sort out her damaged perimeter alarm. The magical warning system had been knocked off kilter a couple of hours ago, and Scylla needs to reset it and return to the barracks so she can focus on progressing with her main mission. 

Raelle Collar. 

Their first meeting had gone spectacularly well, she thinks, setting up for the rest of her… admittedly slapdash plan. The interaction had been light and playful, and hopefully intriguing enough for Raelle to seek her out again, along with providing a perfect experience to begin bonding them together. She sets the charm back into alignment as she thinks it over, focusing on arranging everything back in its proper place. There has to be a more efficient way to do this.

Suddenly, almost as if summoned by her very thoughts, she senses somebody approaching and looks up to see Raelle coming towards her. Dropping the charm and standing quickly, Scylla opens her mouth in an attempt to give her an appropriately casual greeting and hopes that Raelle doesn’t look too closely at what she was doing.

“So how come you get to skip out on all the fun, huh?” Raelle speaks first, obviously dirt–splattered and worn out from what Scylla knows from experience is a grueling training course, especially in the rain. It’s really not fun when the senior officers mess with the weather like this, but making everything wet and cold and dreary is fairly effective practice.

“I’m necro,” she responds, grateful that the conversation starts easy. “We work with the dead, they keep us away from the general populace.” She nods, pleased with herself for handling the beginning of the exchange, and her eyes linger on Raelle. 

“Well, lucky you,” Raelle huffs a laugh, and Scylla darts her eyes to the still unfinished perimeter alarm when Raelle glances over her shoulder. It’s in plain view because Scylla hasn’t gotten the chance to cloak it yet, and she needs to get Raelle away before she notices it.

“Come with me,” Scylla blurts out, hoping to keep her attention away from the setup. A small part of her notes that she’s kind of wanted the opportunity to spend more time with her anyways, and Scylla pointedly ignores it. 

Making a hesitant face and glancing down at herself, Raelle shakes her head. “Um, I’m all gross, and – ”

“No you’re not,” Scylla cuts her off, voice steady and sure, and honestly she’s a little surprised with herself at how forward it sounds. She can still see Raelle’s uncertainty, so she beckons her forward. “Live a little!” 

Raelle gives a surprised laugh, now eyeing her with a delighted sort of interest. “Okay,” she gives in, and Scylla turns to lead the way deeper into the trees, linking her hands behind her back and relieved to hear footsteps following after her.

“Where are you taking me?” Raelle jogs to catch up, and Scylla grins at her, tilting her head.

“You’ll see!” 

Raelle laughs again, and Scylla hopes it’s not obvious that she doesn’t have a plan. Now she has to actually take her somewhere, show her something noteworthy, and she wracks her mind as she steps over the protruding tree roots in the uneven ground. 

When she holds her hand out to help Raelle over a particularly misshapen one, her arm brushes against the small tin of Salva tucked away in her pocket, and she brightens.

That’ll do. 

“Tie the other end to your foot,” Scylla tells Raelle when they get to the site she’d set up months ago, tugging at where the thick ropes are attached to a fallen tree trunk to make sure they’re both secure and then indicating the one closer to her. 

“Uh, I don’t kn – uh,” Raelle looks down in confusion, and Scylla smiles at her as she bends down to loop the other around her ankle, hushing her instinctively. When she realizes, she flushes and hopes the darkness will cover it up, but it seems to work because Raelle kneels down to do as she’s said. Scylla squints at her hands through the darkness, watching in case she doesn’t attach it properly, but it looks like a solid knot and Scylla nods in satisfaction. 

Standing and pulling out the tin of Salva, Scylla slides it open and picks one up with her finger, laying the little star–shaped applicator carefully in Raelle’s extended palm. When her parents were still alive and they were running with other dodgers, they’d had access to a stolen stash of Salva, and Scylla had learned early how to use it safely.

“What’s this?” Raelle asks warily, examining it before glancing back up. Her eyes are still startlingly blue, standing out even in the dark on her dirt–streaked face, and Scylla hopes her staring isn’t too obvious.

“Salva,” she says nonchalantly, hoping to preserve at least some of the notoriety she’s accidentally stumbled into. “Government issue. It’s how they do combat drops.” 

Raelle doesn’t look convinced, and Scylla has to bite her tongue to stop herself from adding anything else. _Trust me_ , she wants to say, and knows immediately that she shouldn’t. Trust needs to be earned, and if Raelle is anything like Scylla, then she doesn’t trust easily. Trust is what got her parents killed, after all.

 _Trust me_.

Of course, she does need Raelle to trust her if she’s ever going to successfully draw her to the Spree’s side, but apparently there’s also something inside of her that _wants_ Raelle’s trust, for reasons she doesn’t quite understand.

Instead, Scylla stays quiet and brings her hand up to press a Salva star against the side of her neck, letting it get absorbed into her skin and hoping that Raelle will take this as proof of its safety. The signature feeling of Salva expands within her almost immediately, the relaxed joy growing floaty in her chest and making everything lighter, and Scylla sighs happily. It’s unlike anything else, a quiet and shimmering sort of calm, and she grins broadly.

She can feel it beginning to tug her off the ground, urging her into the air, but she breathes deeply and resists the pull, waiting for Raelle to make her decision. It takes a few more moments, but then she copies Scylla and brings her hand up to press the Salva to her neck like Scylla had hoped she would.

She sees the moment it kicks in, watches Raelle’s face clear of any confusion while a captivated excitement takes its place, and she laughs freely. Everything is good now, and then she begins to rise.

Floating up into the air with Raelle close behind, she lets herself be carried. She tilts her head back to take in the sight of the sky, just like her parents had always done, and then she looks back at Raelle and drinks in that sight as well.

Raelle is looking at her, eyes that same unnerving silver colour she knows hers to be, and her smile is big and awestruck. The swelling sense of wonder in her chest isn’t exactly new, but the way it’s being shared _is_ , and Scylla finds herself reaching for Raelle, stretching her arm out in response to some sort of magnetic pull. It seems she’s just out of reach, so Scylla settles for a wave instead, beaming at her in the moonlight.

It’s… magical.

Then suddenly there’s a high pitched vibration that cuts right through the rapturous haze, and they both fall so abruptly it’s like they were yanked out of the sky and sent to crash onto the ground. 

“What were you _thinking_?” comes Anacostia Quartermaine’s voice, and Scylla winces, clutching at her leg as she cranes her neck back to see the drill sergeant standing next to them. “We need to get you both to the infirmary.” 

Scylla grimaces as she pushes herself up, stretching out the leg she had just landed on. It’s probably bruised, and Scylla hurriedly glances over to make sure that Raelle is unharmed before moving on to berating herself internally.

It’s only as they’re being carted back to the main section of base with no less than five senior officers escorting them that Scylla realizes that this may not have been her smartest idea. She can’t very well tell them that her and Raelle were never in any danger of overdosing because she’s been an expert at using Salva since she was fourteen, because that’s kind of illegal and also super incriminating, so apparently they’re going on a trip to the infirmary now.

Her leg throbs, and she winces again. Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.

They’re bustled into the infirmary and directed to beds on opposite sides of the room, and when the fixer on duty checks her over they quickly determine that she has a sprained knee. Two of the senior officers stand over her while the fixer then moves to examine Raelle. 

It’s interesting to hear how impressed she is with the results of Raelle’s non–military taught healing abilities, and Scylla files that away in interest. She keeps watching Raelle, not averting her eyes whenever Raelle looks up and catches her gaze, and then Quartermaine comes over from where she had been conversing with the nurse. 

She sends the other officers away with a quick jerk of her head, and the hair on the back of Scylla’s neck rises.

“I don’t know what your game is,” she starts lowly, “But my eyes are on you.” 

Scylla isn’t really paying attention to her, both because she knows it’ll piss her off and because Raelle sitting across the room is much more captivating, but then her attention is very effectively grabbed when the older witch starts to do something Scylla doesn’t even have a name for.

Scylla’s throat seizes painfully, and she can feel the power threatening to crush her. She does her best to hold out against the building onslaught, shifting uncomfortably on the bed, but she knows she won’t be able to resist this for very long.

“Stay away from her,” Quartermaine orders lowly, words edged with power, and Scylla tries to avert her eyes, “Far away. As if your life depended on it.” 

Then she lets it drop and turns to go, leaving Scylla gasping for breath with a racing heart and a whole host of new questions. What had been Quartermaine’s reason for doing that? As far as Scylla knows, she hasn’t done anything to personally offend her, and yet she’s clearly adamant that she stay away from Raelle. 

Well, isn’t that interesting.

She tries to shake it off, conscious of Raelle’s concerned eyes on her, but soon the fixer returns to heal her leg and her drill sergeant makes an appearance, telling her she’s been cleared and ordering her back to training.

She nods and starts gathering her things, shaking out her leg a little bit to test it and glad to find no pain. Occasionally looking over to meet Raelle’s eyes before glancing away, Scylla pulls her uniform jacket on and finally turns to go, mindful of her drill sergeant’s eyes on her but still giving Raelle a little wave and sly smile as she passes. 

Overall, she thinks she’ll count this as a success.

There’s a knock on her door just before curfew, and Scylla sighs, assuming she’s about to be chewed out by her drill sergeant again. However, when she opens the door she’s pleasantly surprised to find Raelle standing there instead, her hands tucked into her pockets and her shoulders hunched. Stepping back to let her in, Scylla takes note of the stormy expression on her face and infers that it probably has something to do with the fight that had broken out between her and the Bellweather during training. Apparently they had almost managed to manifest a storm indoors before they were broken apart, and Scylla wonders what had prompted it.

Raelle doesn’t say very much, and Scylla is content to let her work through her thoughts in silence, wandering over to her mirror and combing through her hair with her fingers as she waits. It’s a completely ineffective move, but Raelle is standing right in front of the nightstand where she keeps her brush so she can only make do.

Eventually, Raelle lets out an aggressive sigh and rakes her hair away from her face before spinning on her heel just as the final curfew bell starts to ring, words spilling out. She’s scowling at the ground as she talks, but Scylla can see that she’s progressively getting calmer until she’s almost settled herself by the end.

“So that was your big plan, then,” Scylla says when she’s done, keeping her eyes on Raelle in the mirror, “Just ruin your chances for war college, get deployed too soon, and get blown up on the front lines because you suck so bad.” She raises her eyebrows at her. “Die young, waste all that youth and beauty… and fury?” Her words are a tad dramatic, but at least Raelle is looking at her now. 

“Yeah, kind of like that, but faster.” Raelle has shifted her full attention to her now, brow furrowed and blue eyes watching her with a fascinated sort of curiosity, and the low light dances across her skin. Scylla tries to keep her facade in place, arranging her hair with renewed interest as she thinks this over and does her best to ignore the way Raelle’s very presence seems to be calling for her. Raelle’s guarded, but at times she’s so expressive that it takes Scylla’s breath away. 

However, the matter at hand is that Raelle’s ridiculous idea is a waste, and she has to get her to abandon it, because giving up is not the way to go about this.

“Your plan was hot garbage,” she says bluntly, “Even if it worked, it’s… winning by losing.” 

The corner of Raelle’s lips quirks upwards, but it’s not amusement in her eyes. “Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, beautiful, because there’s no way out.” 

The word _beautiful_ causes Scylla’s heart to skip a beat, and she pauses. Their eyes are still locked in the mirror, and that’s when Scylla finally registers that there’s something intangible stretching between them and trying to pull, getting more insistent by the second. Turning around to face her properly, Scylla blinks once and tries to figure out what that feeling is. 

Raelle is standing right there, watching her and waiting, except Scylla’s brain seems to have momentarily gone on the fritz because she doesn’t know why. The moment is poised for _something_ , and she’s supposed to know what to do, she’s supposed to have a _plan_ –

“I know a way,” she hears herself say, and then, well… she kisses her.

It’s so easy to do, taking that one step forward to close the distance between them and placing a hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t really know _why_ she kisses her, but she had meant to follow it up with an appropriately righteous and impassioned speech, suitably dramatic and changing her mind about the war. 

Except apparently Raelle is kissing her back now, so there goes that. 

It’s alright, though. Scylla certainly isn’t going to complain.

Raelle’s hands are gentle where they’re holding her face, and she keeps kissing her, never separating for longer than a moment to breathe. Scylla is acutely aware of every point of contact between their bodies, and some distant part of her is still cognizant enough to marvel at how charged the space between them is.

She’s a witch, and she knows what all sorts of energies feel like when they fill the air, but this is something different. It’s something new, crackling with promise and intoxicating, and Scylla blindly brings her other hand up to grip Raelle’s shoulder as she’s walked backwards. 

Her body hitting the wall is a slight shock, but Raelle is pressing so close and her touch is so warm that Scylla doesn’t mind in the slightest. The intensity of their kisses is increasing, beginning to consume her, and if she’s being honest, Scylla isn’t entirely sure how this happened. 

“Tell me,” Raelle breathes, and it takes an embarrassingly long moment for Scylla’s brain to catch up and remember what they had been talking about. Raelle is touching her, and she’s touching Raelle, but she still tries to get the words out, hoping they can plant some sort of idea in Raelle’s head. She thinks she succeeds, and soon they’re not talking with words at all.

“So Abigail doesn’t like you, right?” Raelle comments a couple hours later, rolling over and tucking her arm under the pillow. The tension from before has left her completely, leaving her looking much more at ease, and Scylla raises an eyebrow as she turns onto her side to mirror her position, a little thrown by the random subject. 

“Bellweather? In your unit?” 

“Yeah,” Raelle smiles, languid and content, and Scylla wants to feel it.

“Honestly, I’m… not too sure. I mean, I don’t know her, but no, she doesn’t seem to like me all that much.” She pauses and then bites her lip to stop a smile from spreading across her face, trying to give Raelle a pointed look and purposefully rustling the blanket. “You really want to talk about her _now_?” 

“No, I was just thinking,” Raelle replies with a laugh, poking at her playfully and then picking up her hand and lacing their fingers together, “What if… like, what would you say if I asked you to pretend you’re dating me for a bit? It seems like it’d be the type of thing that would irritate Abigail to no end.” A flicker of hesitation passes over her face, and Scylla almost reaches out in concern. “I figure you don’t want to be involved in an actual relationship with me. I’m… a bit of a mess, but it could work, right?” 

Strangely enough, the concept of her and Raelle dating properly had only crossed her mind for a second before she had dismissed it. Evidently it hadn’t been as unbelievable as she’d thought it to be.

“We can keep doing… this,” Raelle waves a hand at the way they’re lying tangled in bed together, “If you want to, of course, and also piss her off at the same time! What do you think?”

She looks up at Scylla with hopeful eyes, sparkling in the low lamplight that is also giving her hair a kind of angelic glow, and Scylla considers it. It’s true that she hasn’t really thought about what would happen next in terms of _them_ , which may be a slight oversight on her part, but girlfriend doesn’t seem like a bad position to be in.

“You don’t have to answer now,” Raelle squeezes her fingers and grins easily, her expression happy and carefree. The corners of her eyes are now crinkling mischievously, and Scylla hides her smile in the pillow. “Just think about it and let me know in a few days, alright?” she says as she lets go of Scylla’s hand and slides out of bed, “No pressure! I’m totally fine if you don’t want to do it, promise.” 

Scylla feels her absence as soon as she’s standing and has to physically stop herself from doing something stupid like reaching out for her. Raelle shoots her a cheerful grin, and then she feels her heart do a little swooping thing in her chest.

That’s a new one. 

Propping herself up on her elbows to watch Raelle collect her clothes from where they’ve been scattered around her room, she’s about to speak when she realizes that Raelle is picking up her own clothes as well, folding them haphazardly and stacking them on her desk. It’s oddly endearing, and Scylla smiles.

It’s kind of strange. She doesn’t really remember the last time she’d smiled like this.

It’s been hours since Raelle suggested her scheme, and Scylla… hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Whatever attraction she’s feeling towards Raelle is clearly reciprocated, and Scylla doesn’t really know what to do with that.

Now that she’s in her room alone, she sits at her desk and tries to weigh the pros and cons as she eyes her neatly made bed. It’s a simple task, but then her alarm spikes and she freezes.

There’s a sudden pressure in the room before a balloon appears in her mirror, and Scylla tries not to let herself panic as she leaps to her feet, standing at attention.

_PROGRESS?_

Right, the Spree want a status update from her, want to know how she’s advancing their goal. They’d be disappointed if she said she hadn’t gotten any closer to Raelle, and that would be… very bad. For her, mostly. 

Technically, she had gotten closer to Raelle, both figuratively and literally, but the Spree didn’t like that sort of thing, they wanted conclusive proof, quantifiable evidence. They wanted a statement of fact, and… 

“…We’re actually dating now,” Scylla declares hastily.

It’s a very long moment before a response comes, and Scylla braces herself.

_WELL DONE_

The presence vanishes along with the balloon, and though Scylla doesn’t quite let herself sag back against her desk in relief, it’s very close.

“… _Shit_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this is technically fake dating but wow do they both catch feelings REAL quick


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey!” She finds Raelle at lunch the next day, catching her attention just as she’s leaving the mess hall and absolutely not stumbling to a stop when she turns her head. Raelle always seems to be so guarded, angry and resentful in a way that runs deep, and Scylla knows that feeling well. She’s learned how to push it down and shove it in a little box, but Raelle carries it visible in her shoulders and the set of her jaw, eyes hard and daring. She’s usually that and more, but… not with Scylla.

That’s probably why she chose her for this.

“Hey yourself,” Raelle grins, raising an eyebrow as Scylla lifts her chin and brushes herself off for no particular reason.

“Hi.” Smiling at her for maybe a second too long, Scylla blinks and then clears her throat. “Um, about your… proposal from yesterday,” she begins, and when Raelle’s lips twitch like she’s trying to hide a smile, Scylla wonders if she sounds too formal.

“Yeah?”

A breeze blows past them, and Scylla absentmindedly brushes her hair away from her face as she nods. Raelle tosses her head in a little motion to shake her own hair out of her eyes, and Scylla wonders at it.

“Scylla?” Raelle is watching her expectantly, and Scylla remembers that she’s supposed to be talking.

“Right, yes. Yes. I’m in,” she tells her, and immediately a wide smile spreads across Raelle’s face.

“Yeah? Awesome!” She lifts her arms in enthusiastic celebration, so physically expressive in a way Scylla hasn’t allowed herself to be in a very long time. “I have to go get ready for training now, but meet me before dinner? We can go over stuff and whatever,” she waves her hand in front of her in a gesture that Scylla doesn’t understand the meaning of, but she smiles anyway and nods. It’s always so _easy_ to loosen up with Raelle, despite the constant pressure in her chest reminding her of why she’s doing this.

“Yeah, I’ll find you,” she promises, and Raelle reaches out to briefly squeeze her wrist before darting off, leaving Scylla to watch her go. 

Scylla intends to make this charade as convincing as possible, because who knows how many other Spree operatives have infiltrated Fort Salem apart from her. She doesn’t have a way of identifying them unless they intentionally reveal themselves, but she has no doubt that there’s at least one sent to keep an eye on her and she can’t give them any reason to doubt her. Doubt might lead to her removal, and she _needs_ to continue this, needs to be around so she can fulfill her mission.

Glancing around, Scylla tucks her hands in her pockets and then heads off as well, forgetting about the mess hall entirely and making her way towards the woods instead.

The next time they see each other, it’s on the front lawn, and Raelle greets her with a quick smile and a kiss. It surprises her until she remembers that for all intents and purposes, they’re dating now, and that’s a thing that people who are dating each other do. 

“Hey,” Raelle says when she pulls back and falls into step beside her, “Thanks again for doing this.” 

“Happy to,” Scylla responds, glancing at her. She’s strolling along with her arms clasped behind her back, almost seeming the perfect casual military cadet were it not for her unzipped jacket and the untucked shirt that Scylla is absolutely positive has had its sleeves hacked off, and Scylla feels a flash of amusement. Raelle’s blatant disregard for the state of her uniform soothes the part of her that bristles at every reminder of the military. “How do you want to do this?” 

Raelle shrugs carelessly, kicking at a loose rock on the path and watching it shoot ahead of them. “I figure we just establish some boundaries and then, you know…” She pauses and then shrugs again. “Take it as we go. Questions, comments, concerns?” 

“I mean, we just…” Scylla gestures uselessly with a hand as she searches the proper words, coming up blank and settling on, “Date?” 

“Yeah!” Raelle shoots her a smile before going back to focusing on the same rock she seems to have claimed, kicking it forward again as they walk, “Shouldn’t be too difficult.” 

Scylla hums in agreement before glancing at Raelle out of the corner of her eye, wondering if she should hold her hand or something. That was a thing, right? 

Because yes, they’ve slept together, but she isn’t sure what level of familiarity they’re at outside of that. Dating and sleeping together are entirely different things, after all, and come to think of it, Scylla may need to ask Raelle for some more specifics.

“Um, so, what kind of boundaries?” she starts with, tracking the path of Raelle’s kicking rock instead of Raelle herself, “I think I can trust you.” 

Raelle thinks about it for a second. “Like, how do you want to play it around your friends?” 

Scylla snorts. “Won’t be a problem. I don’t have any of those.” 

Furrowing her brow, Raelle gives her a curious look, but it’s not judgmental and Scylla hurries to arrange her face into an unbothered smile. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. There’s nothing about my reputation here that you could do anything but improve.” 

“Well, promise you’ll tell me if something goes too far or makes you uncomfortable, alright?” She’s serious when she says it, and Scylla’s smile is far more genuine this time.

“I promise.” 

Raelle searches her eyes before nodding in satisfaction, looking down when she accidentally kicks the rock too hard and it veers off into the grass. She makes a disgruntled noise before going to retrieve it, and Scylla is almost charmed.

“So who asked who out first?” she ponders aloud, not really trying to hide the way she’s staring at Raelle as she digs the toe of her boot into the grass to get her rock back onto the path. “We should get our stories in order. Don’t want to be caught in a lie, after all.” 

“I’d say me, right? I am the one who suggested this.” Raelle glances at her, and Scylla meets her eyes evenly before letting a corner of her mouth curl upwards and looking away.

“I mean,” Scylla hums, pretending to think about it, “I did talk to you first.” She doesn’t actually care, but it’s fascinating to watch the amusement dance across Raelle’s face. “Doesn’t that count for anything?” 

“Oh, is that how it is?” Raelle raises an eyebrow and laughs, “I didn’t even see you coming up behind me! How could I have talked to you first? Unfair advantage.” 

“Maybe you’re the one with the unfair advantage,” Scylla shoots back, “After all, do you really think there’s _any_ way I’d be able to miss you?” 

Raelle tilts her head a little bit, eyes alight with something almost akin to interest. “…Speak for yourself.” 

“Do you want to come over again tonight?” Scylla asks unthinkingly, extending the offer on an impulse. Raelle grins, and Scylla sticks her foot out to propel the kicking rock out of Raelle’s reach and onto her own side of the path. Raelle gasps dramatically before they begin to jostle each other, fighting for control of the rock, and Scylla finds herself laughing.

So what if she wants to spend more time with Raelle, she reasons with herself. It’ll be better for her cover anyways.

Weeks pass, and Scylla gets better at this. She’s spending all of her time not tied to training hanging around Raelle, and it certainly isn’t unpleasant, not by any stretch of imagination. It surprises her how much she appreciates being in the company of another person, one who she actually likes. She wasn’t lying to Raelle before; she hasn’t had any friends since before the Spree, not since she’d pushed away her small handful of dodger friends when her parents had died. 

She thinks she’s growing to like it.

The morning sun is soft as it streams through the window, casting light into her room, and it’s peaceful with Raelle breathing steadily next to her in bed, the quiet comfort a luxury she isn’t usually able to find.

She doesn’t know how long she lies there basking in it, but eventually Raelle stirs and blinks her eyes open, taking a second before she can focus on Scylla’s face properly.

“Have you just been staring at me?” she mumbles, voice warm and sleep–rough.

Scylla makes a noncommittal noise, and Raelle presses a drowsy smile into her pillow as her eyes flutter shut again. “Tha’s a little creepy, Scyl.” 

“Oh yeah, you think so, huh?” 

Raelle only hums, not moving, so Scylla smirks and wriggles closer until she can stick her perpetually cold toes against Raelle’s bare leg. Raelle lets out a strangled yelp and jerks away, but Scylla reaches out to stabilize her before she can tumble over the edge and hit the wall, laughing and ready for it when Raelle’s now alert eyes meet hers.

Grabbing for her in retaliation, she pounces and they grapple with each other in playful attempts to pin the other until their movements slow, becoming more languid than purposeful. 

Raelle turns her over, and Scylla lies back when she props herself up on her elbow at an angle that allows for her to kiss her easily, and Scylla can feel her smiling through it. 

Bells ring out, disturbing their peaceful backdrop of birds tweeting and leaves rustling in the breeze, and it rouses Raelle as well, spurring her into action. 

“I have to go back to Circe, I have inspection,” Raelle says, pulling away and preparing herself to move, and Scylla instinctively stretches her neck up to follow. She makes to climb over her to get out of bed, but Scylla rolls her over easily and lands her on her back before she can, hovering over her.

“This is an inspection,” she says suggestively, and Raelle laughs, settling back so easily it’s like she was meant to be there. She’s clearly relaxed here, and something about that makes Scylla smile even bigger. Her hand creeps for the hem of Raelle’s shirt, and Raelle is laughing as she voices her protest.

“Oh no, this is important,” Scylla says faux seriously, “I need to secure this area.” She presses a row of kisses into her skin as Raelle halfheartedly grabs at her hand, and Raelle humours her for a moment longer before sitting up.

“Okay, I gotta go,” she says, and Scylla lets Raelle push her onto her back once more. After Raelle climbs over her and begins to gather her clothes, she lies there for a moment, struggling with the confusing feeling that seems to have settled in her chest before sitting up.

“How’s high and mighty?” she speaks up again, aiming for casual and not sure if she succeeds. 

“What, Abigail?” Raelle shrugs. “The same. Still annoyed that I’m spending all my free time with you.” 

“A lot less mighty than she thinks she is,” Scylla says dryly, and it earns her a silly smile, but Raelle only continues to get dressed.

“That’s just the world she comes from, that’s her family,” she says offhandedly, and Scylla is thrown by how neutral her voice sounds, how absent of anger the words are. It’s strange to hear, and Scylla doesn’t quite understand.

“Where do you come from? Since we’re on the subject,” Raelle tilts her head, expression suddenly more tentative than Scylla has seen from her. It’s curious, but before she can react, the words hit something within Scylla and initiate what she can only describe as some kind of internal lockdown. That’s probably not good.

“All over,” she demures as best she can. She tries to say more, wants to give Raelle something other than that extremely bullshit answer, but her mind is currently frozen with alarms sounding over the disjointed remains of her thoughts.

Raelle obviously picks up on it the deflection, because she glances up from where she’s knelt to tie her boots. 

“Could you be more vague?” 

Scylla bites the inside of her cheek to suppress her grimace, trying, “We moved around constantly.” 

“Mm,” Raelle is watching her with a much more guarded expression than just minutes before. “Were you a base brat?” she probes, eyes searching hers, and though there’s no malicious intent to be found, it’s still an unnerving action because Scylla isn’t really sure what she’s hoping to find.

“My parents didn’t serve,” Scylla gets out, and she hates how level her voice is. 

“Oh.” Raelle is still looking at her. “How’d that work out for them?”

A dull arc of pain lances through her chest, and Scylla averts her gaze as she tries to get control of herself. “It’s complicated,” she says carefully, hoping to steer the conversation away from this. 

Raelle’s expression is hesitant, but she doesn’t seem too inclined to drop it. “I do complicated,” she counters softly, part petulant but mostly earnest and sincere, offering more than she probably knows. It’s _kind_ , and Scylla is gripped by an unexpected longing, an ache that she’s always been very careful to keep locked away.

She’s getting her lines confused, that much is clear. To the outside world, she has to pretend to be dating Raelle for the Spree, fully so she doesn’t get… dismissed, and with Raelle she has to pretend to be dating her to help her piss off Abigail Bellweather, but that one’s only partial because with Raelle herself she’s only supposed to act like they’re _friends_. 

She thinks. She hopes? 

…She’s not really sure about that one. 

Surprisingly, she _wants_ to tell Ralle about herself, wants to tell her everything about her parents and her childhood, but she can’t, because that will lead to questions, and questions will lead to more talking, and then more sharing, and Raelle is really very perceptive and sometimes Scylla might not exactly be the best at deceiving her, specifically, so if Scylla slips up and accidentally gives something away –

A loud bell starts sounding outside again, echoing over the base, and Scylla remembers to keep breathing. 

“Bells are ringing,” she says as she registers the warning chimes, leaping at the chance to postpone this talk and give herself more time to figure it all out, “Don’t you have to go?”

Raelle breaks eye contact, and Scylla looks down at her lap as she berates herself. There’s an uncomfortable tension gripping at her chest that’s getting more persistent, and when Raelle stands properly to put on her jacket, Scylla pushes herself out of bed to hover in front of her. 

“I’ll see you tonight?” she asks, hands automatically going to straighten her collar, but Raelle shifts away from her touch.

“Um, I’ll try,” she says evasively, already moving past her. “I’m not sure when we’re done, so…” She opens the door and leaves without looking back, and Scylla watches it close behind her, anger and frustration rising up in a familiar tangle inside of her and burning when they begin to eclipse everything else. The only difference is that this time it’s all directed at herself. 

She grits her teeth together in an attempt to wrangle the unpleasant mess, turning away from the door and biting back a litany of curses. She shouldn’t be concerning herself over this, not when there are so many other things going on, but for some reason she knows she isn’t going to let it go.

Forcing herself to start preparing for the day, she tries to come up with a plan.

That night, after Scylla’s donned the face of Helen Graves, she finds Raelle wandering alone through the empty hallway ahead. Scylla watches her for a moment before approaching, and even though it’s only been a day, she finds that she misses her, doesn’t like the way they’d left it that morning. She knows that her main objective hasn’t changed, knows that this isn’t even a real fight, but she still doesn’t like it.

Besides, she’s supposed to be focusing on repairing their pretend relationship in case the Spree checks in again, not… whatever this is. 

Catching up with Raelle, Scylla reaches out for her shoulder before realizing that, no, she shouldn’t do that, she’s not _Scylla_ right now, she’s a person Raelle has never met and is therefore not familiar enough for this.

Raelle jumps and spins around at the touch, caution justifiably written across her face, but the biggest thing that Scylla sees is that she looks… tired.

“Lieutenant Helen Graves,” she says, sticking out her hand, and after a beat Raelle gives her own and they shake. “Sorry to scare you,” Scylla says gruffly, trying for an apologetic smile, but there’s a weird pull to moving a face that isn’t her own and she’s not sure if it succeeds. “You must be Private Collar.”

“Hi,” Raelle greets, more subdued than usual, and Scylla hopes this face is good at staying impassive. 

“I brought coffee,” Scylla offers, taking the thermos from under her arm and waving it, but Raelle doesn’t really react.

“Uh, no thanks.” 

“Suit yourself,” Scylla spins on her heel and goes to start checking if the doors in this hallway are locked. That seems like a thing someone on guard duty would do. Raelle’s silence is almost deafening to Scylla’s ears, and Scylla channels her best impression of an unbiased third party.

“It’s not my fault you’re here,” she tells her, hoping to needle her into a conversation, and Raelle doesn’t disappoint. 

“I never said it was,” she shoots back, and Scylla tries to hide any signs of amusement. 

“This is going to be fun,” Scylla drawls, attempting to keep up an unaffected demeanour. She continues on to the next door, moving down the line, and she can hear Raelle following after her.

“What year are you?” Raelle says after a moment, obviously extending a peace offering when they hadn’t even really been at odds, and Scylla smiles.

“Sophomore. War college.”

“What specialization?”

“Necro,” she says casually, and she can see the way Raelle perks up out of the corner of her eye, straightening before looking away and feigning nonchalance.

“What’s that like?”

“Necro’s like any other,” Scylla starts, ready for this. “Blasters blast, they clear ground with dangerous weather. Fixers fix people, keep ‘em alive. Knowers see around corners, they know what to do, when to do it,” she lists off. “Necros, well… we just happen to channel the power of death itself.” 

Raelle’s brow is furrowed. “What does that mean?” 

It’s one of the openings Scylla has been waiting for, and she stops so she can turn to face her. “Death has it’s own… magnetism, and resonance. Highly directable in combat situations, great for gathering intel. The dead make excellent eyes and ears.” 

Raelle is thoughtful as she processes the information, and Scylla tilts her head.

“Why are you so curious about necros?” she asks before she can stop herself, wanting to know more about her thought process, and Raelle immediately straightens. 

“No reason,” she says, face suddenly blank and impassive. It’s an expression Scylla has seen more than once, but it’s never been directed at her before. 

Shrugging, Scylla turns and continues to lead the way to the exit. “Yeah, two can play at that game, tight lips.” 

Scylla can see Raelle thinking something over, and it’s only silent for a few moments before she speaks again.

“Alright, so, maybe I have a special necro in my life,” Raelle divulges as they step outside, much to Scylla’s surprise. They’re passing through the elongated shadows cast by the buildings around them, and her steps almost falter.

“This evening just got interesting,” she blusters, trying to keep up her confident front. “Who is she?” 

“She’s a second year. Scylla Ramshorn.” 

Scylla finds that she really likes the way Raelle says her name, and she can’t resist the urge to talk herself up. “Bright girl. Best in her year.” 

Raelle huffs, making a sound like she isn’t sure whether to scoff or not. “Yeah. Bit cagey though.” 

Scylla is glad for the darkness and shadows in that moment, because she isn’t able to stop herself from wincing. “The thing you’ve got to understand is that necros are a weird lot on the best day,” she tries to explain.

“And… why’s that?” 

“Because of what we can do,” she shrugs, making sure her thermos is tucked securely under her arm before she takes the flashlight out of her back pocket and clicking it on. “Because we’re the army’s bastard stepdaughters, because we’re _so_ damn spooky.” She catches herself when she finds instinct driving her to smile wryly at Raelle along with the joke, and she subtly clears her throat as she looks away. 

“On top of that, Scylla’s got her own stuff,” she continues. She doesn’t know what pushes her to say it, but something inside of her is urging her to share, wants Raelle to understand. Maybe she really has just been waiting for a chance to tell Raelle, and this is what it takes for her to do it.

Maybe Scylla is a coward too, sometimes.

“Mind you, this is just gossip, but I heard the army killed her folks.” She glances away from Raelle when she sees something fleeting pass over her face, and it’s gone before Scylla can identify it. Occupying herself with scanning the building in front of them, she ignores the anger simmering insistently inside of her in favour of appearing unaffected. It’s a process she’s used to, something she’s had a lot of practice for, but it seems to be just a little bit harder this time.

“Why?”

“Draft dodgers,” Scylla stays focused on a very secure window before moving on, throwing another glance at Raelle to gauge her reaction. “Again, don’t quote me. But that’ll mess you up.” 

She still can’t read her, but then she loses that train of thought because she’s once more struck by how tired Raelle looks.

“You look pretty wiped,” she comments, unable to help herself as concern pokes its way into her conscience.

Raelle looks up at her words before glancing away, eyes roaming the darkness around them before disclosing, “Yeah, I barely slept last night either.”

“I wonder what you were up to,” Scylla says, knowing full well what she was doing, but even with her half smile Raelle still looks really tired, and Scylla wants to help.

“Tell you what, who’s your drill sergeant? Quartermaine, right?”

Raelle blinks. “The one and only.” 

“Go sleep. I’ll tell Anacostia you were the picture of military virtue.” 

Raelle doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking away as she considers the offer, but then she shakes her head. “You know what, I’m good. My orders were to walk the perimeter until dawn, and that’s what I’m gonna do.” She gives her another half smile in thanks before brushing past her to start her rounds, and Scylla isn’t sure if she’s more surprised or impressed by her answer.

“Save that fight for the Spree, Private,” Scylla calls after her. For some reason, she really doesn’t want Raelle to walk away yet, and she’s unable to help herself just as Raelle is turning away, opening her mouth again.

“Give your special necro a minute to open up,” she tells her, ignoring the way her internal voice is screaming in her head. “I bet she’s worth it.” 

There’s a long moment where Raelle just looks at her consideringly, and Scylla wonders if she’s somehow given herself away before Raelle relaxes.

“I will,” Raelle nods, sounding so unguarded and sure that Scylla completely believes her. “Thanks.” 

She heads into the night, splitting off to walk her own route, and when she’s gone Scylla reaches into her pocket once more, this time pulling out a lighter. Flipping it open and shut a few times, she tries to settle herself with the repetition before she sighs and flicks it on, raising the flame to her chin and closing her eyes as it burns this face away.

The next night finds Scylla pacing back and forth outside the pizza place Raelle is at with her unit, muttering to herself and tugging at her uniform. She’s aware that she’s probably freaking herself out for no reason, and she’s also aware that she might be freaking the civilians out too, given the way some of them are giving her such a wide berth. 

She’s alright with that last part. 

Frustrated, Scylla cards her fingers through her hair before going back to pulling at her uniform. This will be the first time she’s officially meeting Raelle’s unit, and even though this isn’t a real relationship, the desire for validation suddenly feels pretty real. 

She takes a deep breath to try centering herself, and then she immediately feels foolish for being so nervous. These girls have only known Raelle for about a day and a half longer than she has, so it isn’t like it’ll be difficult to fool them.

Steeling herself, Scylla rolls her eyes and then marches up the steps to yank the door open with more force than necessary. The muffled sounds of conversation greet her as soon as she steps inside, and the smell of pizza reminds her that she should probably eat something before the day is over.

She spots Raelle quickly, her eyes finding the back of her head amidst the rest of the patrons as if drawn to her, and she begins to make her way over. Raelle turns her head as soon as she rounds the corner, and Scylla gives her a shy smile despite herself. 

“Hey,” Raelle greets her quietly when she reaches the table, standing up and coming closer, “I – I didn’t think you were coming.” Her voice is pleased, but there’s also an unsure timbre to it that Scylla isn’t happy with.

“And miss a chance to see you? No way,” Scylla says assuredly. She can see the way Raelle is glancing at her unit, but she doesn’t look away from her eyes. She knows that she’s supposed to be playing alluring girlfriend, terrible influence and time waster extraordinaire, but for some reason all she really wants to do is make up for yesterday morning when she had disappointed Raelle. 

She can hang around with her unit another time.

“Let’s go,” she urges, trying not to let it sound too much like a question. Raelle meets her eyes and then gives her the smallest smile, squeezing her arm and nodding.

“Uh, Tally, Abigail, Glory, this is Scylla,” she speaks up, turning her head to face the table, “My girlfriend.” 

Tally and Glory both greet her with smiles while Abigail gives her a judgy once–over, and that’s about what she had been expecting.

“Great to meet you, ladies,” Scylla responds, first smiling at Tally and Glory before meeting Abigail’s cold stare evenly, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“So this is Necro,” Abigail voices loftily, and Scylla smirks.

“And this is High Atlantic,” she responds in the same tone, shifting so she can press in closer to Raelle. This is wholly expected, but Abigail is still a Bellweather, and whether she likes it or not her family represents almost everything about the military that Scylla loathes.

Raelle nudges her with her foot, and Scylla takes the hint. “Just can’t wait until we meet again,” she tells her as lightly as she can, purposefully tangling her fingers with Raelle’s where she knows Abigail will see, and when Raelle pulls her away she’s happy to find her biting back an amused smile. 

“Why didn’t you come last night?” Scylla asks once they’re far enough into the woods that surround the town. They’re alone here, nothing except the plants and the birds for company, and Scylla won’t pretend that she isn’t more comfortable in this sort of environment.

“I had guard duty because you made me late for third bell,” Raelle says, picking her way through the trees. “I met someone you know though, um, Helen Graves?” 

Scylla suppresses a smile as she continues to lead the way deeper into the woods. “What did she say about me?” 

“She said that you take a while to open up. And she told me why you guys are so weird.” 

“Who?”

“Necros.”

Scylla laughs. “You think I’m weird?” 

“Uh, like, sexy weird,” Raelle flounders, hastily adding, “I like it.” 

Scylla chuckles, not at all offended.

“Listen,” Raelle hesitates but doesn’t falter. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so pushy yesterday, you don’t owe me anything.” 

Scylla blinks in surprise, completely thrown by the apology and almost slipping on a patch of moss.

“Just… even if we’re not actual girlfriends, we are friends, right? So, you can talk to me about stuff. If you want.” Raelle nudges her in the side, and Scylla feels herself softening, only able to give a nod in response. 

“So, where are you taking me?” Raelle asks, and Scylla is once again struck by the way she’s following without reservation like before, completely trusting and willing to go anywhere she wants.

“I’m looking for something dead,” she states, going back to scanning the ground and belatedly wondering if she should have phrased that sentence differently. Thankfully, Raelle doesn’t seem to be bothered, only glancing around and huffing an amused breath.

“Yup, you should have your pick of that in here.” 

“I mean something recently dead, something fresh,” Scylla explains absently, and she can sense Raelle’s confusion.

“Why?”

Scylla takes a moment to stop and face her properly, taking in the way the moonlight plays across her face and then simply saying, “I want to show you something beautiful.” 

Spotting a dead bird, she waves Raelle over and they both go to crouch around it. She checks to make sure it’s a suitable conduit as Raelle waits patiently, and even though her attention wanders for a moment or two, she manages to take a deep breath and focus on singing. She gets it right in one shot, and when a mushroom stalk grows out of the bird she perks up proudly, letting her song fade away to be absorbed in with the sounds of nature. 

“It’s a death cap,” she tells Raelle quietly, not wanting to break the calm that’s settled around them. The woods around them are so much more alive than the civilians will ever realize, and Scylla hopes that she isn’t alone in knowing that.

“In the kingdom of plants, mushrooms occupy the underworld,” she begins carefully, hoping to convey this properly. “Nothing ever really dies. Life becomes death, which becomes life again, over and over.” 

To Scylla, it’s always been a comforting thought. Alone with only her anger and ghosts, she’d needed at least one certainty.

“My mom is really dead,” Raelle says, almost inaudible, and Scylla hopes that maybe someday this could bring her some measure of comfort too.

“Sorry, I know it’s a sensitive subject.” Scylla doesn’t flinch, but she wants to. “I just mean to say that death is more complicated than people think. It’s not so cut and dry.”

Keeping her gaze focused on the death cap, Scylla tries to tell herself that she has this completely under control. The only way she’s going to say what needs to be said is if she just… says it.

“And I’m sorry about the other day too,” she averts her gaze as she speaks, “I don’t talk about myself very easily.” She’s horrified when she hears her voice about to shake, and maybe she doesn’t actually have this under control.

“Take as much time as you need,” Raelle says quietly, and when Scylla looks up it’s to see Raelle watching her with something she doesn’t recognize in her gaze.

“I’ve been burned before,” she tries to warn, morbidly pleased at the double meaning of the words, but then she doesn’t know how to continue, letting her words trail off. She isn’t sure what Raelle is seeing, but whatever it is seems to be enough for her.

“You are so beautiful,” Raelle tells her, stating the words so sincerely that Scylla almost draws back in surprise. Lifting her eyes to meet hers, Scylla feels strangely breathless, finding only a single spark of indecision that is almost completely overshadowed by something Scylla has lost the capacity to recognize.

For a second, Scylla thinks she’s going to kiss her.

Of course, they’re not actually dating and there’s no audience here, so obviously she doesn’t. Instead, their eyes stay locked together until Raelle slowly blinks and reaches out for her, and then she takes her hand.

She holds it gently, and neither of them want to be the one to let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scylla trying so hard to impress a girl that she’s been sleeping with regularly for weeks, you go baby 
> 
> and raelle? you should realize by now that yes, you are being obvious, but no, it is absolutely not enough for scylla to pick up on. you said ‘fake relationship’ and unless you do something scylla’s gonna run with that forever


End file.
